


Leftovers of the Overland

by tatertotarmy



Category: Alice Through the Looking Glass (2016), Alice in Wonderland (Movies - Burton)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 12:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7102372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatertotarmy/pseuds/tatertotarmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His Alice returned in drab rags and in colors that looked like dust on the highroad. His Alice was Alice now, but he did not know where the mad colors of previous her dress left her. Nor did he know why his Alice trembled in time with the rhythm of a clock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leftovers of the Overland

Alice was back. Not boring, imposter Alice that came in sheep’s dress of not-blue. She was the Alice with muchness, _his_ Alice, the girl that was not too tall or not too small. She was the Alice that believed him! How happy a day it was, to finally be believed! 

Since she had sat beside him and told him that she believed him, he had taken no time at all to get changed. Of course, after he had taken to another room - dressing in front of a lady would be _mad_ \- and stripped himself of those drab pinstripe nightclothes in favor of assortments of his favorite colors. Pink, red, green, brown, white, yellow; all colors that his father would never _dream_ of assorting together in the same outfit, much less a hat. Most people seemed to have one favorite color, but Tarrant liked them all. They were all so lovely.

Blue was something missing in his list of favorite colors, but that was because it was Alice’s color. Always covered in blue, whether she was too small or just right. She liked the color so much that it would be selfish for him to even claim it as his own favorite color. Or to claim in his outfit, because Alice made up all the blue he could ever want. Blue was Alice, and Tarrant was not. He was fine with all the rest of the colors in the world, but blue was the color of his Alice.

He finished putting together his outfit - complete with a hat that favored his current contemplation of the letter E: exploration, escape, elated, energetic, evoke, evil, eradication of the _bloody big head that had his entire -_

“Tarrant? Tarrant, are you ready?” 

He stopped, watching eyes turn from yellow to green in the mirror. He was fine. He was completely fine, especially because his Alice was there. But he kept her waiting and it was not good to keep a lady waiting. Especially his Alice, who did not like to wait...yet kept him waiting a lot when she was not herself before. But it was fine now! The Mad Hatter blinked, toothy grin spreading on his face when he exited his chambers, now properly dressed for a proper lady. 

Near the front door he saw a pile of grey, like the ashes on Horovendoush Day, upon grey upon even more grey, topped with a tangled mess of yellow hair, dimmed like a sun on an overcast day. She turned to him, looking up at him from the bottom of the stairs. Her hand clenched on one sleeve of the dirtied attire, not anything he’d ever seen anywhere in Underland. 

She smiled. He didn’t. 

“There you are,” his Alice moved along with the meshed pile of grey, as if the color actually belonged to her, “Are you ready?” 

He was confused. Not only was Alice wearing grey, but she seemed to air the feelings of grey with every breath. Moments ago, she was pure blue like Alice was. Her tears had been dark blue, drenched down her face. Her smile was the blue sky, shining down on his awakening. Had the grey clothes affected her? Was that grey leaking into his Alice? 

“W...What are you wearing, Alice?” he asked, pure innocence in his voice as he grew more confused by the minute. Alice looked at him with equal confusion for a moment, though soon her eyes trailed his to the collection of grey clothes. In seconds, her smile dropped as well, grey seeping into her expression. As he closed the distance down the stairs, he could see more details. Buttons holes on the end of her long sleeves matching the size of buttons on her shoulders. It was made with rough, scratchy material that he hated working with. A dirtiness covered the grey, worn in places suggesting that it had been worn for years. But Alice was too pretty, too great to wear something like that. It must have been borrowed. But who in Underland would give her _that_ to wear? 

“It’s just something from my world,” she answered curtly. 

A light, mad chuckle fell from his lips, flying out through the cracks of his confusion, “Your world must be mad if people wear that around.” An image popped into his head of scores of people wearing the same outfit in the streets. Would it not be hilarious if the Bloody Big Head’s court had been wearing this very outfit? It would have driven her mad! But then an image of everyone in Witzend wearing the outfit. It was sad. His chuckle was cut short. It didn’t seem funny anymore. 

“It’s not something people really wear…” Alice explained, lifting her arm so that the buttonhole looped around her index finger, “This is what people are put in when they’re...mad.” 

Tarrant tilted his head, “But you are mad. You forgot you were Alice once, you remember. And your madness is good madness, very nice mad if I do say so myself. Very muchy, very nice, very - ” 

“Tarrant,” Alice spoke out, shattering his rambles as if it were made of glass, “It isn’t exactly a good thing where I’m from. When they think you’re mad, even if it’s harmless, they lock you up and try to...fix you.” Delicately, Alice wormed her index finger from the buttonhole and allowed the loose sleeve to fall down her forearm. Her skin was plagued with goosebumps, her muscles trembling beneath. 

“But there’s nothing to fix. Nothing’s wrong with Alice. Why would they try to fix you?” he turned away from her, pacing a lap around his circular house, “Alice is fine the way she is. Why?” He felt himself begin to tremble in the exact same way, except this instance it was from the red that was bubbling inside him like scalding mercury. How dare they lock her up? How dare they make her so grey, so scared beneath her skin? How dare they even think to keep her from coming and going places as she wanted, like she came and went from Underland? Alice was Alice, a free spirit of blue dress and yellow hair that nobody should ever contain. Not him, not the people in the Overland, not anyone! How dare they even dream of - 

“Hatter! It’s alright!” 

Between the red he saw Alice, gripping his shoulders to keep him from making another lap around the house. He looked down, seeing a torn up piece of fabric in his hands. 

He dropped it and looked back into her eyes. Blue eyes. Alice eyes. Though he was still angry - at both Alice’s grey and his family’s capture - he could still feel himself begin to level back to zero in the ocean of blue. 

“Sorry…” Tarrant quietly mumbled beneath his breath, “It just does not seem right.” If it was up to him, he would take all of the grey away from Alice and leave her back to beautiful blue. 

“It’s fine. I was more afraid that I wouldn’t be able to escape in time…” Alice spoke, a small smile on her face and a small shade of...why was there pink on her skin? “But let’s go! We should find your family.” She turned away to go back to the front door, though something stopped him from following. When he did not follow, Alice turned back to him with a confused look on her face. His eyes went back down to the dreadful clothes she wore. If he could not take away the grey, he could at least take away the grey around her. 

“Alice, first come with me. You should get something else to wear too,” Tarrant took her hand and lead her up the stairs, thinking over what practical Alice should wear. The White Queen surely had some dresses, but they were all white. Alice liked getting things done and always seemed to have perpetual grass stains after only hours in Underland. White was not her color. Blue was her color. But he didn’t have a lot of blue. Blue was on reserve for Alice but he wasn’t expecting Alice to be back so soon so he didn’t have enough for a fully sized Alice dress. 

“Tarrant, my clothes are fine the way they are,” Alice still followed, though, as he lead her into his sewing room. 

“No, no. This is a daring rescue of my family!” he lied, “We must look our best!” He just didn’t want her to be in the grey anymore. Alice just laughed as she walked around the room, eyeing collections of hats, outfits, dresses, and fabrics all haphazardly strewn about the room. Tarrant did not have a blue dress for Alice and if he tried to make one with the fabric he had, Alice would probably be mad...and not in the good way. Instead, he looked to his completed collection of dresses. Some were too large, some were too small. Though there was one, a collection of reds and blacks, that was Alice sized. 

Tarrant pulled the dress from the rack and rushed over to Alice, handing it to her, “Here! Put this on.” 

“Oh, it looks lovely,” Alice spoke, looking over the outfit. Tarrant wondered if he should give her a hat as well...but then it wouldn’t be an Alice hat. He could easily make clothes, but his true pride was in hat making, just like how it should be as a Hightopp. Any dress he made was fine, but if he were to give Alice any hat he made, then it would be insulting. She deserved her own hat, her own Alice hat. And he didn’t have an Alice hat to give her. 

He paused, noticing that he was still in the room. After he requested for Alice to put something on. 

This was highly improper. 

“O-Oh! Sorry…” Tarrant gasped as he rushed out the sewing room and down to the front door, where a man should be if a lady was changing. Not anywhere near the lady at all. 

It only took her a short while to emerge from the sewing room. Tarrant looked up to see the grey gone, replaced by the reds and blacks she now wore. The reds reminded him of what would happen to the grey clothes once they returned. Right into the fire with them. Alice wore the colors wearing an Alice smile, seemingly refreshed after shedding all of that grey and talk of being fixed by the people of her world. This was his Alice, truly. The Alice that was happy with who she was. Even if she was not dressed in her blue, he liked her better this way. 

“Alright, Tarrant. Let’s go,” Alice spoke, a slight jump in her step compared to before. The tremble was gone, replaced with determination. Tarrant felt at ease, eagerly following her out the door. 

Now she was his Alice, dyed in red, yet now the Alice he loved. 

**Author's Note:**

> The Mad Hatter is a very difficult perspective to write from. On another note, it makes me sad to learn that the new Alice movie isn't doing so well. Despite its flaws, I found it very enjoyable. Hopefully more people see it. I blame X-Men.


End file.
